Why Enemies are Blessings: Re. Morgan Freeman and Lanza

I'm glad Morgan Freeman wrote the response he did for the shootings in Connecticut. Because I completely disagree. And, actually, my disagreement has solidified my resolve to a) not kill every fucking body I see, and b) not kill myself. (Death, by the way, is not an "opposite to life." Another post for another day, perhaps.) The argument went a little like this:

Freeman: http://www.dailypaul.com/266479/surprising-message-from-morgan-freeman-he-blames-the-media-for-ct-shooting

Me: You're full of shit.

Freeman: Yeah? Why's that?

Me: Because you're spouting the same sort of crap that every cynical psychiatrist does. You want more "mental health research," and like any "mental health researcher," you're looking for the essential quality that makes people essentially and fundamentally bad people from the very start, so you can kill it, quarantine it, sedate it, and obliterate it from the human race.

And to top it all off, you're saying the essentialist quality has to do with desire for fame. FAME! Which shows that you, like most other Hollywood celebrities (I wanted to say "hacks" but that's going too far—in this case, anyway, there's actually evidence against that claim), you believe that:

1. Everyone wants exactly what you have.
2. While it was divinely ordained for you to have it, it was not divinely ordained for 99.9999% of the world's population to have it.
3. All the problems of the world would be solved if everyone just gave up on their dreams and stopped wanting what you have, and instead, adopt a submissive position and accept the crumbs that people like you allow to drop off the table.

Freeman: Well, I read your position, because like every Hollywood celebrity in the world I keep up with the writings of Nathan Foster. It seems like you claim here that you understand the inner workings of school shooters. You say, and I quote, "I have these kinds of thoughts running through my head at least 20 times a day...."

You go on to claim the following: "[W]hether or not the objective world is an evil place where everyone deserves to die will be entirely beside the point. It is quite possible, theoretically, that everyone in the entire universe will rise up as your personal enemy." Taken in conjunction with the post about "Absolute Eclectic Morality," It would seem that you, sir, not only understand the shooter, but empathize with him, and perhaps even agree with him. There is actual evidence, in these three posts, that you believe everyone deserves to die.

So what's stopping you? If you think you deserve fame, and you know killing a bunch of people will get you fame, and you don't think that it is necessarily ethically wrong to kill a bunch of people, why don't you do it then, and gain as much fame as you could ever hope for?

Now this thought is what really crystalized my position, and it illustrates the value of enemies. (Not that Morgan Freeman is a mortal enemy of mine, but he does have a point of view which I completely disagree with, and in this case, that is enough.) The rest of the conversation:

Me: For one, if everybody didn't deserve to die, they probably wouldn't all eventually die. And for another, while I may, from time to time, hold the belief that everyone deserves to die RIGHT NOW, unless I actually have the ability to kill every single person in the world—not just a handful of people in this or that place, but literally everyone—I'm really just tooting my own horn. Everyone is going to die anyway. Why do I need to speed up the process?

And besides that obvious negative point of view, there's a positive reason not to kill everyone as well. There is a possibility that they have something to teach me. See, I'm a firm believer that situations of ignorance are ripe situations for new and meaningful knowledge. As it says in the Bible, "Many are called, but few are chosen." It's perfectly okay to be chosen, or not to be chosen, to be the one who kills everyone in the world. And while it's not certain that there's a reason why I'm not that person, there's a possibility that there is such a reason.

Which leaves me with two options. 1) I should've been chosen but wasn't. In which case, I have an opportunity to root out the real enemy and deal with that spirit. Or, 2) I should NOT have been chosen, and wasn't. In which case, I had something to learn, and it's better that I wasn't chosen.

Freeman: Great, so with your manic/depressive psychosis and acceptance of others, you're going to choose the other option, and off yourself in the basement?

Me: I'm glad you brought that up, because no, I'm not. I'm just like everyone else; I'm going to die eventually, and there's no reason to speed up the process. And there may be an opportunity to make a difference.

Freeman: You seem to be making the argument that living in this world is completely ephemeral. The only reason not to actually kill yourself, or anyone else, for that matter, is based on distant probabilities that perhaps they have benefit to the world. This is also evidenced by your insistance, in your response ("My Perspective on School Shootings"), that to end school shootings, we should train in discovering other-worldly goddesses, rather than human relationships here on Earth.

Me: I do NOT make the claim that life is ephemeral. I DO, however, make the claim that where you live your life is ephemeral, as long as you can make out goddess-Buddhas. If my body here on this Earth is killed, I'm fine with that, as long as I can find a place somewhere else where I can make out Buddhas. The choice is completely meaningless.

Freeman: If the choice is meaningless, why not try your luck with another body in another world, rather this one, which obviously causes you so much pain?

Me: Obviously, Morgan, you don't keep up with my writings as much as you claim, or you wouldn't have missed this post, in which I claimed that it is precisely the decisions which are meaningless—for example, Coke vs. Pepsi, Planet Earth vs. Planet Venus, human-form vs. goddess form, etc.—that are the most important. And not only did I make that claim, but I considered it such an important claim that I advanced the further claim that it is actually the basis for a just and creative society.

Hopefully you know, by now, that I mean exactly everything I say. And if we take the eclectic view of my philosophy, you'll understand that I am completely committed to a) NOT killing myself, and b) NOT killing others. This is a profound vow which, on many days, is like choosing to drink a specific cola-flavored drink. But many days there's actually a moral reason to follow it.

Art and Business

In my filing cabinet at home, I have a dollar bill.

It is a special dollar bill. I had it when I was in the mental hospital years ago. When I was in that place, I had only a couple of dollars to my name. And every couple of days the hospital would send around a cart and allow you to give them your money for whatever they had for sale. I decided early on that while I would buy perhaps a couple of items, I would save exactly one dollar and never spend it. The mental hospital took away everything important to me—it took away my freedom, my dreams, my artistic capabilities. I was spiritually broke. I was NOT going to let them make me financially broke as well. So I saved that one dollar bill, and still have it to this day.

A lot of people do things similar to what I did. Businesses everywhere take the first dollar they earn, have it framed, and hang it on their walls. I think we're doing something very interesting when we do this.

See, when I took that dollar and decided not to spend it, I grew the United States economy by exactly one dollar. And now, to me, that dollar bill is worth more than $1. I would not sell it for $1 (or something worth $1)—if I ever do sell it, it will be for more than a dollar.

For me, personally, that dollar has increased my wealth. I can put a measurement on it: Say I'm not willing to let go of the dollar and all it means to me for less than $50. If that's the case, I have increased my personal wealth by exactly $49. And I would have grown the economy. See, when I bought the dollar bill for $1, I grew the economy by $1. The number on my bank account is decreased by $1. When I put the dollar back into circulation, I diminish the economy by $1. But when the other person buys it for $50, it grows the economy by $50, causing a net growth of $49.

Of course, so far, I've talked only about my personal wealth. I, personally, am not willing to sell that dollar for less than $50 (we're assuming). However, the real question is of course whether or not someone else agrees with me. Otherwise, it's ridiculous to say I've grown the economy. I may have grown my own psychological economy, but I haven't grown the U.S. economy. Getting others to agree is a work of art.

By saving this particular dollar, I am making an artistic statement brimming with social commentary. That dollar is fine art. It tells a story involving one man and the mental health system. It gives a moral lesson of patience and frugality. It criticizes systemic exploitation in the psychiatric establishment. It has a happy ending: I left the hospital victorious because I didn't spend it. And it improves the value of the person who buys it: They can hang it on their wall now and share in my triumph against the system. (If they buy my story about it, that is.)

This is why I am somewhat confused that our economy isn't an art-based economy. In fact, people often claim, falsely, that we need to be less "artistic" about our economy and produce more physical things in factories. I can't think of anything more Marxist and further from the truth. When you produce physical things, you're stealing wealth from the Mother Earth and selling it for hardly any more value than it was worth in the first place. This is what China does: the Communist Party extracts wealth from their banks, who extract wealth from the workers, who extract wealth from the Earth. There's no growth, regardless of what the numbers say: it's just exploitation. When you make art, however, whatever you do is nothing but pure added value. If you're an artist, the materials you work with, whatever they are, are worth hardly anything compared to the worth of the final piece of art. China's Communist Party could never allow this, because it gives so much wealth and power to individual artists, when they want all the wealth and power for themselves. So why on Earth is our economy so eager to profit off of stuff other than art while almost completely ignoring this treasure trove of business opportunity?

For whatever reason, we have not developed the infrastructure necessary for an art-based economy. Certain art forms have taken some steps, of course—Western music is based on the accumulation of hundreds of years of deep meditation and hard work. The twelve-tone musical system and our system of musical notation have allowed for extremely complex and rich musical ideas unmatched by any other culture. In music from other cultures, it's rare to find even basic harmony, let alone key changes, because in their musical systems such concepts don't make any sense. They have spent less time developing their musical infrastructure.

Fashion has had a similar experience. (Well, women's fashion at least. Which is why I wear women's clothes so often. Shh.) Before Louis IV, people wore traditional dress which remained unchanged for years. But to increase the glory of the kingdom, I suppose, they began to think of ways to change the fashion of the time. Now, as a result of developments in the fashion art's artistic infrastructure, we have a kind of fashion grammar rich with all kinds of innovative concepts (collars, collar stands, a-line forms, shifts, hour-glass forms, etc.) This rich array of elements in the art's infrastructure is what allows our fashion to be so complex, exciting, and ever-changing.

So in a couple of art forms, some basic infrastructure has been developed. The business infrastructure may also be developed to some extent, but, I would argue, not enough.

Think of the things investors look at before they invest in a business. They look at the psychological characteristics of the CEO. Are they a leader? Do they have drive? Are they motivated? Excited? Do they work well with others? The answers to these questions determine whether or not the company will succeed. They look at the product. Is it something people want? Does it satisfy a need? If they put it on a shelf, will it move? They look at history. Has this person ran successful businesses in the past? Have products like this sold well in the past? They look at the research. Is there concrete, empirical evidence that the product will sell? They also look at the intent. Does the company have a solid plan moving forward? Does this plan take into account incomes and costs? When investors look into these things, in depth, they can gauge how much they and the economy will benefit.

See, when we think of artists, we have this notion that you just go out into the world and be yourself and somehow, unexplainably, end up being brilliant and make tons of money. I think this is nonsense. What is someone buying when they buy your art? If you can't answer that question, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't become an artist. Imagine if we treated businesses this way. "I'm going to be a businessman. I'm going to go out in the world, be myself, and make a business that's brilliant in some unexplainable way, and people will be inspired for some unexplainable reason, and I'll make tons of money." I wouldn't invest in this person, would you?

People don't buy art just because you're so awesome they can't stand not spending their money on you. But I think people tend to think this is how it works. So what we need to do, then, is think less about what art says about the artist, and more about what it says about the person who spends money on it. This means that instead of being subjective, we must be objective. I know... that sounds sacrilegious. But it's true. I make movies as well as music. But I invest more in my movies than my music. Why? Because the people who listen to music want to have a shared experience with their friends and their communities, which usually implies a live performance. And I can't perform my music live. So I know no matter how good the music is, it's never going to sell. The only way it would sell is if it were so popular that a shared experience would be implied regardless of whether or not it's live.

Movies, on the other hand, play a slightly different cultural role. If people wanted a shared experience of film and video, there would've never been such a thing as television, and people wouldn't sit alone in dark rooms at night trancing out in front of it. Yes, I know, there is also radio. But how do people listen to music on the radio? In their cars, with the windows rolled down, and as loud as possible! They obviously want to share their experience! But people who watch television, on the other hand, don't do it with the curtains self-consciously drawn. So I've made a business decision: I'm going to invest in film more than music.

And another thing: I'm not going to even think of distributing my films with a distributor without some kind of business sense about whether or not the stuff would sell. Otherwise, I'm wasting everybody's time.

This is how we artists need to think. We need to think of art as a business, objectively, with detailed numerical measurements of potential for making money. If we do this, we can grow ourselves and the economy. And, by the way, we won't in any way diminish our creativity or value as an artist. Creativity is not measured by how "true to ourselves" we are. It is measured by how inspired the work is. And how inspired the work is is measured by how inspired people are by looking at it. How inspired we are is merely a convenient way of gauging whether it will inspire others. And, by the way, if it inspires others, it'll sell. We need to think about this. If we don't, we're wasting everybody's time.

Nonsense Hollywood Myths Many Don't Bother to Question

Just about everything out of Hollywood sucks, including the things a lot of people agree with. Here's a couple.

1. You always want what you can't have. I've even heard some reasonably intelligent people say this. But this Hollywood "wisdom" is nonsense. Think about it. It implies that there's something about not having something which makes you want it. "I want every sign that says 'slow down' to be repainted as saying 'drive slow.'" "Well, you can't have it." "Ooh, now I REALLY want it." If you really wanted things just because you can't have them, that conversation would make sense. But it doesn't.

   It isn't that you can't have something that makes you want it. We want things because we like something about them. We don't want what we already have simply because it didn't turn out to be all it was cracked up to be. Things are like that. We fantasize about something, and imagine that it will solve all our problems; then when we have it, it doesn't, so we want something else. There's no causal relation between being unable to have something and wanting it. Which brings me to my next point:

2. If you look deep in your heart, the thing you really wanted was what you had to begin with. No place is like home, eh? What if you live in an abusive family? Then do you want what you already have? I think not. In fact, as stated earlier, what you really want is probably what you don't have.

   A better way to state these things is, if you look deep in your heart, you'll discover the truth. This includes truth about your own wants, and whatever you need to make it happen, IF you want something to begin with. See, I think the reason these ideas are formulated this way is because of the concept of want. Hollywood wants to get you to want something. Anything. It's fundamentalist consumerism.

3. There are some things in this world that just can't be explained by logic alone. Of course, if you actually use logic, you'll deconstruct these ideas and realize they're nonsense. As a matter of fact, certain kinds of advertising, like political advertising, have been shown to work best on people who don't go to college, where they teach you logic. Go figure.

   Why then do so many people believe this statement? Because it's a bastardization of the idea that some things can't be explained by deductive logic alone. Actually, NOTHING can be explained by deductive logic alone. To show this, let's look at a deductive argument. Every deductive logical argument is constructed similar to this:

   • Assumption: pigs can't fly.
   • Assumption: Jake is a pig.
     

     ---

   • Conclusion: Jake can't fly.

   What are the first two statements? Assumptions. NOT necessarily deductions. Assumptions can come from other deductive arguments, though they don't have to. (E.g. Jake has four legs, pink skin, short hair and a snout. Every animal with these things is a pig. Therefore, Jake is a pig.) But these other deductive arguments are also based on assumptions. And if these assumptions are based on deductions, those deductions are also based on further assumptions, and so on. So where, aside from deductive logic, do these assumptions come from?

   Inductive logic. Which is simply observation. I've observed that no pig has ever been able to fly in the history of life, therefore it's a reasonable assumption that pigs can't fly.

   So nothing can be explained by deductive logic alone. But, sorry to rain on your parade, everything can be explained through inductive and deductive logic together. Even magic and the occult. Even paranormal activity. If you observe it correctly, that by definition is inductive logic.

Art doesn't have to be a philosophical textbook. But bad art comes from unexamined ideas. And bad art has observable negative consequences, encouraging people to be deluded, chauvinistic, consumerist, racist, perhaps even violent. And there's no reason for it.